


blood seems black against the skin of your porcelain back

by heybernia



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Multiple, a metric ton of angst that was something i should have tagged for, deliberately vague tags, the fic equivalent of neapolitan ice cream, there are detailed spoilers and content warnings inside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 06:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15113963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heybernia/pseuds/heybernia
Summary: There’s a black mark a few inches to the left of Jèr’s spine, right on the edge of his shoulder blade. It’s shaped like a semi circle and looks about the length and size of Alex’s thumb.





	blood seems black against the skin of your porcelain back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aimerai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimerai/gifts).



> super big cw for suicidal ideation/suicidal thoughts and one mention of self-harm
> 
>  
> 
> thanks to b. for being encouraging when i told them the idea and for saving me right at the end and a. for all of the comments
> 
> the tags are deliberately vague but there's detailed spoilers in the end note about what's happening. please keep yourself safe no harm no fowl if you clicked on this and now have to click off it's all understandable
> 
> for aimerai, this came from you talking about them being injured at different points during last season. it went in many different directions from that but i hope you still enjoy it <3

**_a.f. 10/2016_ **

Alex always tries to keep his eyes away from Phil and Jèr's corner in the locker room. Looking at your teammates like how Alex wants to, long enough to absorb every detail, memorise every line, isn’t something you should do.

He tries not to look at them but that doesn’t mean he succeeds at that. Most of the time he does manage not to, just about. Alex turns away from them and stares at his stall or the logo on the floor or the one shallow crack in the ceiling, breathes through the sound of their chatter and their laughter.

Then there’s times like now, when Alex is aware of himself and aware of what’s he doing, and yet he still can’t catch himself before they’re there filling up his vision. 

Jèr is smirking, it’s obvious even from where Alex is, and talking to Phil whose whole body is turned towards Jèr, his smile shining. 

Something jumps in Alex’s chest, bounces hard off his ribs when Jèr takes off his shirt in one fell swoop, still talking as he does it. Alex looks away then and is about to finish getting dressed as fast as possible to hide his suddenly hot cheeks. 

He’s turning back again to look at Jèr again before he can stop himself though, because Alex is sure he saw something out of the corner of his eye, something dark on Jèr's back.

Alex was right. There’s a black mark a few inches to the left of Jèr's spine, right on the edge of his shoulder blade. It’s shaped like a semi circle standing up and looks about the length and size of Alex’s thumb. It disappears under Jèr's long sleeved red shirt, the movement of his shoulders clear through the material. 

“Oi, Lauz, when did you get a tattoo?” JCB asks from his stall a few up from Alex. 

So, Alex isn’t the only person who noticed it then and he’s not imagining it. Good thing he asked instead of Alex because he probably wouldn’t have survived asking Jèr himself. 

Jèr's head jerks around, a shocked expression on his face it’s quickly replaced with a smirk. “Over the summer,” he says.

“Where did you get it?” JCB asks.

“A tattoo shop,” Jèr says, matter-of-fact.

Alex muffles his snorts into his hands. “Does it mean anything?” That’s Fonts asking now, you can’t let this team get their hands on anything, they’ll always try and sniff it out in the end.

Jèr shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s just like a half-moon, I just thought it would look cool.” 

“Shouldn’t you have gotten a full moon because of huskies and howling?” Fonts says.

“We’re not wolves, dumbass,” JCB says. 

“We’re basically wolves.”

“Nah, I’d rather say it was a single orange slice,” Jèr says before someone else starts talking, the corner of his mouth raising up even higher.

“Could it not be a chocolate orange, those things are great,” Fonts says.

“Sure,” Jèr says, going back to getting dressed then, seemingly unconcerned about everyone commenting about his tattoo. Phil, on the other hand who hasn’t looked close to saying anything this whole time, is sat in his stall staring at the floor, his lips pulled in, hands clasped tight in his lap. He has this uncomfortable, frustrated expression on his face.

He must be able to feel Alex staring at him because he looks up right at Alex and they hold eye contact until Alex breaks it, his cheeks and his whole face now feeling all too warm. 

Alex manages to hold himself together until he’s on the ice and all throughout practice too. Jèr keeps on bumping into Phil and not leaving the side. It manages to make Phil smile again. 

Alex keeps his eyes glued to the puck after that, keeps them glued shut in the shower and glued shut and facing his own stall while he’s working himself out of his gear. He doesn’t need anyone knowing how he feels about them. 

 

_**j.l 10/2015** _

Jèr has to have it pointed out to him.

“Hey, so, Zach keeps on starting at Phil and Forts, " Math drops on him when Jèr is busy at practice doing important things like watching for the peek of Phil’s gold chain and Alex’s laugh. After how good the summer was to them, it would be a shame not to catch up. “Jèr. Jèr. Hey, Jèr , pay attention to me before I smack your kneecaps.” 

“That’s if you can reach them,” Jèr says automatically, turning to Math then.

Math squints at him like he’s barely resisting the urge to follow through on his threat. “Shut it, shrimp.”

“Ah, there is no sweeter thing to be called than shrimp, I’m swooning.” Jèr puts his hand over his heart and flutters his eyelashes. 

“You’re such a fuck,” Math says. He’s busy shaking his head when he suddenly stops and taps Jèr with the butt of his stick. “See, he’s doing it now.”

Jèr follows where Math’s looking and finds Zach against the glass staring at Phil and Forts who are standing together. Phil’s shifting on his skates and Alex keeps on looking down before glancing back up to him, this small smile for Alex on his face the whole time. “Yeah, he is,” Jèr says, not looking at him anymore. Zach can stare at who he wants though, I don’t see why you’d tell me.”

Math opens his mouth to say something and then stops. “Just ask him about it, at least for Phil’s sake because I’m sure Phil thinks Zach doesn’t like him,” Math says. 

“That’s dumb, no one could dislike Phil,” Jèr points out. 

Math shakes his head and laughs. “Yeah, you’re right but that doesn’t stop Phil from thinking that,” he says, and that’s right, Phil takes responsibility even when he shouldn’t. It’s such a Phil thing but it makes Jèr want to hold him until he stops thinking like that.

“I’ll talk to him on the drive home,” Jèr says. Driving Zach back to his billet is something Jèr's been doing since Zach first got there. Zach is still his little brother despite how much of a pain in the ass he is, and so Jèr's got to look after him because it’s his responsibility now. 

Anyway, Jèr is going to take the mature route about this because he’s a mature person. He’s eighteen, he got drafted to the show this year, he’s got an A on his jersey now and everything. 

"So Matty says you’re being a fucking weirdo,” Jèr says about five minutes into their journey.

“Excuse me,” Zach says,

“Like you’re being weird, weirder than normal,” Jèr says.

“I’d learn it all from you,” Zach bites back.

“Yeah, all you ever do is copy me so that sounds about right,” Jèr says, unbothered. If he doesn’t get to what he was meant to talk about now, they’ll end up bickering and Jèr will only remember that he should have brought it up when he’s ready to go to sleep. “He said you keep on starting at Phil and Forts and that I should talk to you about it.”

Zach looks out of the window instead of answering. 

Jèr asks, “Do you have nothing to say? “

“You stare at them too,” Zach says eventually.

“What?” Jèr turns down the radio because he needs to make sure he heard that right. 

“You stare at them too,” Zach repeats and Jèr resolutely keeps looking at the road.

“That’s a definitely maybe,” Jèr concedes.

“Jèr , c’mon,” Zach says. 

“Zach, c’mon,” Jèr says back. 

“Jèr.”

“Zach.”

“ _Jèrèmy_.”

“ _Zachary_.”

They make eye contact through the rear-view mirror and Zach has this stubborn look in his eye that Jèr recognises from his own face. “You always talked about them a lot,” Zach says. “Phil did this and Forts said that, and when I was there last season, I notice how you looked at them straight away. I just wanted to know what you saw in them. And then the Southern Comfort happened during the summer and that sort of confirmed it all.”

“Southern Comfort,” Jèr repeats. To say he feels exposed would be an understatement.

Zach signs and speaks like he’s reciting a painful event from his past for the first time. “You know that party at Henny’s when you found the old _old_ Southern Comfort at the back of the cupboard. All I’m going to say is that it made you say a lot of things about their smiles, and holding their hands, and one scarring tangent about their arms that haunts me.”

The tips of Jèr's ears feel like they’re about to catch fire. “Both of them,” Jèr says, apparently reduced to being a parrot right now.

Zach lowers his voice and he sounds calmest he has been since they got in the car. “Yeah, you were very adamant about liking the both of them equally even when Henny called you out on it.”

They’re at Zach’s billet now. Jèr didn’t realise until they were right in front of the house. He stops the car and sinks back into the seat. Zach makes no move to get out.

“You were very stubborn about it,” Zach carries on. “Like, no one could get you to pick one over the other. I think we all got that you actually liked the two of them.”

“But even if I do like both, I can’t have both,” Jèr says, small. This is the part Jèr hasn’t ever wanted to admit to himself, the fact that he doesn’t want one over the other, that he wants them both just as bad in a way that makes his heart clinch and hurt. 

There’s a long moment of silence in the car. “If anyone can figure out how to get two of them, it’s you, Jèr ,” Zach says. ““You’ve definitely got enough gay for the both of them.”

That makes Jèr grin at the very least. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” He says. 

Zach smiles at him. “You’re welcome.” Zach unclips his seatbelt and leans over to give Jèr a hug as best he can. “Love you.” Jèr gives squeezes hard enough to make Zach let out a breath. “Love you too.”

It takes no time for Zach to get all of his stuff and to enter the house. It’s going to take more time, a lot more time, for Jèr to think about what to do about this whole thing. It’s going to end up being a mess probably and it’s probably not going to work out either, but Jèr's going to try for them. Jèr's not going to look back and think he’s missed his shot.

 

**_p.m. 10/2017_ **

Phil misses Rouyn.

Phil misses the drive to the rink from his billet’s, misses the smell of the arena, misses his teammates. 

It took him until October to go back last year, but the ache wasn’t as bad then, maybe because he knew in his heart of hearts that he was going to go back. Maybe he ended up going back because he wanted to, who knows.

Getting sent down to the Phantoms isn’t a surprise to him either, although he isn’t sure exactly how much he wanted it.

Everything’s seems good. The city’s itself is nice, there’s not really any difference between day-to-day in Rouyn and day-to-day here. There is less French but Phil still gets to speak it with Sammy, Nic and Marty, and Sammy and Nic basically told him that they all were getting a place together which Phil appreciated. 

The season is about to start and Phil’s the healthiest he’s been in a long time, three years to be exact, but Phil tries not to think about the reason why. All that does is make him want to scratch at his shoulder until the burning stops, until he’s gone through the skin, the muscle and the bone and can move onto the rest of him.

There’s two specific reasons why Phil misses Rouyn but he tries and fails not to think about them.

Phil misses them. Phil misses them so much that it makes him feel sort of hollow inside, like there’s warmth meant to be there, but now they’re no longer here to give it, it’s just a neverending cavern of cold and darkness that’s growing bigger everyday.

It’s better for them that they’re apart now, but Phil is selfish and he can’t help but miss having them around. 

For Jèr and Alex, it would have been better if Phil was never around. That’s the plain truth of it. He would never tell them that because they wouldn’t have it, but Phil thinks sometimes about it would be liek if he wasn’t around. Things would be better for them probably--definitely. 

Things would probably be better in general.

If Phil was a good person, he’d stop talking to them all together, at least stop them from getting more attached to him.

But he lets Alex call him when he gets sent down, Alex mostly just breathes and talks about the shows he’s been watching, and then he lets Jèr do the same when he gets sent down, except Jèr more so rants about it all and makes sure to check that Phil saw his goal. 

Phil compliments and comforts them in equal measure and it only makes him ache for them more but he has to learn how to shove that down, how to let that disappear until he feels nothing at all.

 

**_a.f. 11/2016_ **

Alex is imagining things he’s pretty sure. Or he’s starting to lose it because he’s been pining for too long now and it’s dissolving his brain into mush.

See, the thing is, whenever Phil is right on the edge of Alex’s vision, Alex’s mind keeps on telling him that Phil has a mark on his back that looks just like Jèr's. 

Alex knows Phil doesn’t actually because tattoos can’t just suddenly appear and disappear. He lets himself have one look so he can be sure about it before a game that Jèr's going to be spending watching from the stands which had been happening way too often with him and Phil. Injuries happen, learning about Phil’s long list injuries after the Memorial Cup left Alex grimacing, but ones like this that continually keep them off the ice are new. 

No wonder Phil and Jèr have seem to have gotten closer, even less willing to leave each other’s orbits than they were before. Jèr seems to be the main thing that makes Phil smile now. Jèr always made Phil smile but Phil seems to smile less at other things.

That does mean every smile Alex gets makes his heart twist in delight.

Anyway, after Alex had his look at Phil’s broad back, he waits for Phil before they go out on the ice.Alex is aware he’s no replacement for Jèr not at any place or time nevermind Jèr and Phil’s pre-game hand clasp but Phil blinks at him once when he notices Alex standing in front of him, waiting on him, his hand outstretched and smiles at Alex when they bump fists with grateful crinkles beside his eyes that aren’t hidden by his visor.

Jèr is back the game after next, and then the three of them are away to the Super Series along with JCB and Fonts. Alex plays on a line with them, and Phil and Jèr are lineys too, and it feels like everything's near enough right for once. 

Alex’s stall is in between theirs, Jèr to his left and Phil to his right, and Alex couldn’t replicate the facial expression he made when he saw it. Having them stand over him in various states of undress is either hell or heaven, Alex can’t decide which. 

It’s sort of hard for Alex to avoid looking at them understandably. He gets a good look at Jèr's tattoo at least, he can even see how there’s lines in it that split it into three triangles. 

"You ready to go?” Jèr asks him, looking Alex up and down. 

“Always,” Alex says, sounding way more confident then he feels, which is to say he feels like his insides have gone to goo. 

“Perfect,” Jèr says. “Phil?” There’s something about the way Jèr says Phil’s name, soft and always affectionate underneath any teasing, that it makes Alex want to melt. He does melt whenever Jèr says his name like that.

“Yeah,” Phil says. Alex would turn to see Phil but he can hear Phil’s smile and him giggling a little and so Alex isn’t going to do that. 

“Great, let’s go get ‘em boys.” 

After the game, someone makes sure to take a photo of the five Huskies at the game and Alex isn’t sure how it happened but he ends up in between Phil and Jèr again. 

Jèr puts his arm on Alex’s back first, and then Phil follows a few seconds, lightly spreading his fingers across the small of Alex’s back, and the heat from their touch is warming Alex’s skin despite the layers of padding and material.

Alex returns the favour, takes the opportunity to touch Jèr , steady and strong and unmoving under his hand, and Phil, still and unwavering. 

They’ll be off to join Team Canada in a couple of weeks and Alex is going to miss them but he hopes they make it, hope they’re both healthy enough and that the injuries that have been plaguing them since they’ve return to Rouyn stop for now and forever. 

Maybe by the time they come back, Alex will have built up the confidence to do something about his feelings. Maybe he won’t be afraid to touch them and to try slot in between them, won’t fear trying to find out where he belongs with them. 

 

_**j.l. 01/2016** _

Jèr's waiting for the right time to make his move. 

He can’t rush this, this is too important for that, Jèr's going to do this properly. There’s no guidelines Jèr could find on what to do when you’re trying to woo two people at the same time, at least not one that ends with you getting both people and them being aware of it, but doing double what he would do normally should work. 

He was taking things slow before he left for Finland, he made sure to compliment their play and sit next to either of them on the bus, Phil likes to watch movies and eat Jèr's food and blush about it while Alex ends up falling asleep without fail no matter how short the journey and says a sleepy sorry whenever he wakes up.

Now though, he’s back, it’s a new year, and so it’s time to take things up a notch.

“Please stop talking about your new year’s resolution, it’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” Zach tells him repeatedly because Zach is dramatic and doesn’t appreciate the level of effort Jèr is going to. Making them part of his new year’s resolution is the right way to go.

The first step to achieving his new year’s resolution, Jèr decides, is to start touching them more which kind of works. Whenever Jèr touches Alex, he blushes every single time all the way down his neck, and never tells Jèr to stop. 

Phil also doesn’t tell him to stop but Phil--he freezes up, every single time, and even though he starts to relax quickly, literally the last thing Jèr wants is to make him uncomfortable so Jèr slows down the physical affection for now. Goes back to telling Phil how good he is instead which always make a flush of pink appear on Phil’s cheeks. 

Jèr keeps on meaning to ask Phil about it because again, he wants Phil to be happy and if Phil isn’t comfortable with that in general or because it’s Jèr , then Jèr would like to know sooner rather than later.

He doesn’t know why he starts thinking about this at a party of all places. Doesn’t know what it is about the plastic red of his solo cup that makes him think of Phil and decide to go find him, but that’s what he ends up doing.

He bumps into Alex in the hallway when he couldn’t find Phil taking up space anywhere inside. Like, Jèr literally bumps into him, and Jèr's just glad Alex didn’t spill his drink and get any of it over his tight, white shirt. That wouldn’t have been good.

“Hey,” Alex says. Jèr's sure that’s what he said anyway, he was watching Alex’s mouth the whole time.

“Hey,” Jèr says, now looking at Alex’s eyes and his nice lashes. 

“What you doing?” Alex asks. 

“Looking for Phil,” Jèr explains.

Alex nods understandingly. “I think I saw him go out the back,” he says.

This is why Jèr loves Alex so much. “Thanks a lot, Forts,” Jèr says, giving into the urge to give him a hug which Alex immediately returns, his arms locking around Jèr's waist before letting go quickly. Alex was very warm in Jèr's arms, Jèr makes sure to put that away somewhere safe. 

Jèr only realises when he makes it outside and finds Phil leaning against the porch fence, shoulders tight, chain barely visible in the low light, that he should have asked Alex to come outside with him. As they say, shoulda, woulda, coulda. 

Phil seems to be out of it, in his own little world watching the wind blow through the bare branches on the trees. 

“Phil!” It comes out as more of a yell than Jèr intended. Phil jumps and flips around, hand on his heart.

“Jesus, Jèr --wait, where’s your jacket?” Phil asks, immediately looking concerned.

"It’s inside,” Jèr says, going over to stand next to Phil whose eyebrows are creased.

“Okay, why did you come outside where it’s cold without your jacket on then,” Phil questions

“Because I wanted to find you and make sure you weren’t getting into trouble.” That’s the best Jèr's brain could up with on such short notice. Phil giggles though because he’s not completely sober either. 

“Thanks, Jèr ,” Phil says, his breath visible, his hand brushing against Jèr unintentionally but it’s all Jèr can think about, Phil’s knuckles meeting his. 

Jèr asks. “What were you out here thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Phil says. “Just getting some air.”

Jèr nods. Bites his lip a little as he builds up the nerve to ask something.

“Everything’s okay, right?” Jèr checks. It’s hard to explain but something has been different about Phil all season. He’s not. There’s not as much as lightness about him. Like he’s lost his glow or something. 

“Yeah, everything is, Jèr ,” Phil says, voice a warm comfort in the cold. 

“You’re sure?”

“Yep.”

“Okay,” Jèr says, trying to hide his smile at their hands still being beside each other. 

The door suddenly swings open and out walks an Alex, red faced with a drink in his hand and without his jacket as well.

“It’s like an oven in there,” Alex says, coming to stand next to Jèr. 

“So you’ve came out here into the freezer instead,” Phil says, shaking his head at Alex.

“I’d rather freeze to death than be boiled,” Alex says. 

“I don’t know, freezing is slow, boiling is probably quicker,” Jèr says.

“I’d rather not die at all,” Phil says. 

Alex bursts out laughing, laughing with his whole body like he can’t keep it under his control just like his arm brushing against Jèr. 

There are goosebumps racing down Jèr's arms and Jèr couldn’t tell you what or who they were from. 

Jèr has the two of them on either side and he still can’t decide but he probably has to pick one to speak to first which is probably going to be Phil because worst comes to the worst, he feels like Phil is going to let him down gently. Alex would too, but Phil’s Phil, he’s made of sweetness that makes Jèr feel safe and want all of the best things for him. 

 

_**p.m 03/2018** _

Phil can’t say no to Jèr. He’s known that for a long time. 

Phil can’t say no to Alex either. He’s known that for a long time too.

He needs to figure it out soon. He should have figured it out long how to explain that he needs to say no for their sake, but it’s too late. 

As soon as Jèr asked to talk to him after the game, Phil knew was fucked. 

Seeing Jèr across the ice is hard enough for Phil, having to see him wear different colours than Phil, ones that he still looks gorgeous in but just aren’t right to Phil’s eyes yet. 

Seeing Jèr in person a few feet away where his still damp curls aren’t hidden by his helmet, where Phil can see how much he’s filled out since the last time Phil was this close to him, (That would be the spa trip with Zach. They should have cancelled, but they didn’t. Phil couldn’t look at Jèr the whole time and so he never knew if Jèr could bare to look at him either.) and how his skin is clear, cheekbones prominent and lashes and eyes that are just as deadly as ever, overwhelms Phil with things he’s been trying not to let himself feel anymore. Make Phil choke on any words he has.

Jèr didn’t even need to ask if they could go back to Phil’s apartment, Phil’s heart wants him now that Jèr's right here in front of him. It wants him in anyway it can get.

He didn’t ask to meet up the first time they played each other which was good because everytime Phil saw Jèr , he would remembered the two month concussion, think about what Jèr must have been going through, and he’d want his face away forever.

Phil takes Jèr back to his apartment. Jèr looks too comfortable in Phil’s front seat, fiddling with his air con. 

Phil takes it slower than he normally would. It’s not to spend more time with Jèr , no, it’s more to make sure they get some privacy, and sure he’s right, Sammy and Nic are in their bedrooms. Even if they overhear anything, they won’t come out. They know Phil likes his space, likes to be left alone.

He takes two beers out of the fridge, cold against his skin, and passes one of them to Jèr who returns him a soft thanks. The two of them are leaning against the counter in silence, accompanied only by the noise of the fridge freezer. Phil’s not going to drink his, he’s just going to hold it until his hands don’t need it anymore. 

Phil’s shoulder blade is burning again, hot enough that it feels like Phil’s going to have burn marks on his clothes. Phil doesn’t know if they feel the same sort of sensation too or if it’s just him. He hopes it’s the later. 

Jèr's looking at him, occasionally taking sips from the bottle, and Phil is busy picking off the label. The silence stretched on still.

“Alex misses you,” Jèr says, so quiet that Phil almost doesn’t hear it. He wished he didn’t.

“Alex misses you and I do too,” Jèr says, quiet still, and Phil keeps on picking off the label.

Alex is far away from them both in Rockford. Phil’s okay with it for himself, but not for Jèr. Him and Alex deserve each other, deserve better than Phil.

“Phil, just talk to me. Please,” Jèr pleads but Phil’s done listening to his heart. It’s had enough of what it wants, everything from here on out is going to make it hurt and yearn for things it can’t have, things it shouldn’t have. 

“Phil, we miss you, we don’t blame you for any of it,” Jèr says, inching closer to Phil. “With Alex-- that wasn’t your fault, it couldn’t have been, we didn’t know. I should have known better.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Phil says, keeping his voice from breaking. 

“It wasn’t your fault either, none of it is.” Jèr sounds so sure about something that’s not simply true. 

Jèr waits for Phil to answer him and as much as Phil hates disappointing him or making him upset, he’s not going to do it.

“Phil, please,” Jèr says. “I just want to help.”

Phil swallows to force the words out. “You’re better helping yourself.” 

Jèr's close enough now that his free hand is touching Phil’s hip, his knuckles burning Phil’s skin. “I can’t do that without helping you, I don’t want to. You’re not alone in this like you think you are.” 

Listening to what Jèr's saying is the easiest part. Accepting it is the most difficult, too difficult for Phil to even attempt. He can’t even shake his thoughts, they’re stuck together inside his head, playing over and over again the same things about being alone and deserving to be alone and how it would be better if they didn’t care about him, if no one cared about him because then he could disappear off the face of the earth and no one would be hurt.

“Can you go now, please, I want you to go,” Phil says, even though it’s truly the last thing he does.

“Phil.” Jèr sounds so sad, so devastated, like he’s about to break too and Phil can’t watch that, can’t let Jèr see how broken he is already.

“Please, Jèr.” Phil is the one pleading now with tears burning the back of his eyes and the inside of his throat. “Please go, just go, please.”

Phil can’t bare to look up from the floor even when Jèr moves away and the cold takes over again.

“I’ll see you next week,” Jèr says, a promise Phil doesn’t want him to keep, and that’s goodbye for now. It should be forever. 

Phil listens to Jèr's footsteps get further and further away, and then him opening and shutting the door and Phil needs to go and lock it. He needs to but all Phil does is slump down to the cold kitchen tile and cover his face with his hands, struggles to breath. 

Phil ignores his phone when it goes off in his pocket. Doesn’t see Alex’s contact name until his cheeks are wet and the top of his shirt is damp and doesn’t read what Alex has to say before he’s finished sobbing again.

 

_**a.f. 05/2017** _

They last four minutes into OT against Chicoutimi. Alex was on the bench when the puck went past Sammy and in. He sits there for a minute that stretches into two then three. Alex can’t remember when his last shift was, what he did during it. He doesn’t think he wants to, it wasn’t enough after all.

Alex didn’t think this was going to be when it ends. He never thought it would end like this. Alex stupidly thought it was never really was going to end, and now that it has, Alex has to face realities he was avoiding.

Life is forcing him to take the next step, stopping him from going back, and with that, any chance he had of finally saying what he should have done long ago is gone, now destined to be locked away as a thing kept to juniors.

Everything’s gone quiet, the empty arena, the slow movements in the locker room. There’s tears everywhere, Alex makes sure to wipe his away on his sleeve.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, still dressed in all of his gear. People come and go in front of him and Alex doesn’t have anything to say to them, doesn’t have anything to say for himself.

Then, someone comes and sits in the stall beside him, slide their arm around his shoulders.

Phil doesn’t say anything either for a long while. He keeps his arm around Alex, and Alex leans into him, takes the movement of Phil’s chest as a reminder to breath.

“You gonna be gonna okay, Forts?” Phil asks, concern clouding his voice. 

“Yeah,” Alex says because he’s going to have to be. “I don’t know,” isn’t a real answer. 

“What about you?” Alex turns it back onto Phil. Tries to look at him the best he can. 

There’s a flare up of ache spread across Phil’s cheeks, bags under his eyes, and this uneven manner to his breathing. Alex still feels warm from how Phil’s looking at him even if it’s just Alex looking too much into it.

“Yeah, I will be,” Phil says. He does a better job of lying about it than Alex does. Phil’s hurting, they’re all hurting, and all they can do is try and keep themselves together.

Alex looks around the locker room and tries to take everyone in, the way their stalls are set up and how it looks right now because the only time he’s going to get see it again is when they have to clear it out. It takes him a few moments to realise who’s missing. “Where’s Jèr ?” Alex looks around to make sure he hadn’t just missed him but there’s no Jèr about. 

Phil’s mouth twitches. “Away, I think. You should go and find him,” Phil says, eyes pointedly looking at him, trying to say something more, and oh, maybe Alex wasn’t as sly as he thought he was.

“I’ll be fine,” Phil says, answering Alex’s question before he can even ask it. “Go be with him. He’d like that.”

“But what about you? We can go together,” Alex says, wanting more than he’s being given because what he’s being given isn’t all he wants. He wants Phil too. 

Phil has this look on his face that Alex can’t describe, it’s this sort of longing that leaves Alex stunned. “I think it would better if just you went.”

Phil squeezes Alex’s bicep and Alex reaches up and squeezes Phil’s hand in a return, just for a moment before he lets go and slips out from under Phil’s arm. “I’ll be back with him soon, I promise,” Alex says. 

Phil smiles, slow and sweet. “Thanks, Forts.”

It doesn’t take him long to find Jèr. One of the doors is open a crack and there’s sniffling coming from inside it. Alex pushes it open despite his splintering heart and yeah, there’s Jèr , still in his gear too, surrounded by the assorted trash that gets stored in this cupboard. 

Alex would know Jèr had been crying even if he wasn’t sniffling, his face and eyes all red, and his cheeks are marked by tear tracks that glisten in the light.

“Forts,” Jèr says, still wet. “What are you--” His breath hitches and another piece of Alex’s heart comes off too.

“I came to find you,” Alex says, taking a step forward into the cramp cupboard. Closing the door behind him as best he can.

“You shouldn’t have,” Jèr says. Normally, Jèr would say that as a joke when someone does anything for him but Alex doesn’t think that’s how he means it now.

“You shouldn’t be by yourself,” Alex says. 

“Because I’m the captain, right,” Jèr says, his mouth twisted into this self-deprecating smirk that Alex doesn’t. “The captain shouldn’t be in a cupboard crying by himself.”

“You can cry all you want, there’s nothing wrong with that. Just--you don’t need to do it alone,” Alex says. 

“Alone is better,” Jèr says. It’s not like Jèr to be all pity party-ish, it’s not like him at all. Alex doesn’t know what to do at all or how to help.

“Phil told me to come and find you,” Alex says as a starting point. 

Jèr bites his lip and blinks his red-rimmed eyes. “”Yeah?”

“Yeah, he did,” Alex says. He watches Jèr's face, it doesn’t shift into a smile but things seem to become less turbulent. 

“I think there was a specific reason why he did,” Alex says, frantically gathering all of his courage. 

“Yeah?” Jèr says again, teeth digging into that bottom lip of his. 

“I think-- he wanted me to help you feel better,” Alex says, taking another step closer, him and Jèr now sharing the same space. 

“That was nice of him,” Jèr says, wiping at his eyes before looking at Alex again, staring at him and his mouth. Alex should probably think about whether he should have been able to read this before or if he was looking from too faraway, wasn’t looking close enough, Phil and Jèr both filling up his vision to tell, but Jèr is licking his lips right now and that’s catching Alex’s attention instead. 

“So do you want to?” Alex asks, trusting Jèr will know what he means. 

Jèr comes the closest he has to smiling this whole time, face trying to lift itself up. “Of course, Alex,” Jèr says. 

Alex lets his body guide him through the next part.. Jèr's close enough that Alex has to tilt his head up a little although Jèr ends up doing most of the work for him, cupping Alex’s jaw and coming down to meet him. 

Jèr's mouth is warm compared to the feel of his beard against Alex’s face, scratchy and rough against Alex’s skin, and his bottom lip fits right in between Alex’s lips, he makes this small noise when Alex bits his lip for him. Alex’s whole body is burning up. 

They don’t even kiss for very long but it takes the last of Alex’s energy away and leaves him swaying on his feet. It was better than he ever imagined. 

Jèr runs his hand down Alex’s back. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Jèr confesses.

“Same,” Alex says lamely, not knowing what else to say. 

Jèr laughs, almost a giggle. “Thank you,” Jèr says, and he gives Alex another kiss, this one more of a peck. “Let’s go thank Phil too.”

They make it back to the locker room, their pinkies looped together ever since they left the cupboard, and this whole kissing Jèr thing is definitely a case of better late than never. Much better late than never. He doesn’t know what the exact deal between Jèr and Phil is but he’s sure he’ll learn. 

Phil’s still there, he’s one of the last few left although he’s mostly dressed now, his curls all falling onto his forehead. He smiles at the two of them when they come through the door. The brightness of his smile turns up even more when he must notice Jèr and Alex’s pinkies. 

Alex needs to let Jèr go so he can get undressed but it’s not a big deal, he’s going to get another chance at it. It just gives him encouragement to get changed faster, Alex’s gear feels lighter than it did the last time Alex was in here, every piece making him move faster and more alive. 

“Alex, wait, what’s--” 

Alex stopped moving when Phil said his name. He’s in the awkward position of having his shirt pulled over his head but there was something worried in the tone of his voice which leaves him still. 

“Oh, no. Alex, no.” That tone in Phil’s voice is ramping up, it’s worried, reaching close to panicked. 

There’s nothing on Alex’s back he can feel, there’s something like a burn on his spine, but it’s mild, barely there. Alex pulls his shirt down and turns around, glancing between them and the looks on their faces, between Jèr's hands hanging at his side and Phil digging his nails into him. Alex’s stomach hit has long since hit the floor. 

“What is it?” Alex asks, trying to inject some calmness into whatever this is. “What’s wrong?”

Phil’s eyes flick over to Jèr , and Jèr swallows, and then says, all too quiet, “I kissed you.”

Alex doesn’t understand, he needs an explanation. 

It’s going to be a long night for the three of them until morning comes. 

 

_**j.l. 05/2016** _

Jèr awakens slowly, deliberately keeping his eyes shut, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep and not wake up for the rest of the day.

It’s warm in the bed and it’s doing a lot to help ease all of Jèr's pain. There’s still the all over ache inside from what happened yesterday -- Jèr doesn’t know where he could have done more, he just knows there would have been something -- the phantom pain on the side of neck and this new, specific pain on his back right on his shoulder-blade, one of those spots that’s difficult to scratch. 

Jèr can’t remember blocking a shot or anything. It must have been from a hit into the boards or something.

Jèr shuffles closer to the middle of the bed, he only notices when he nudges into another pair of legs that there’s another person in the bed. That would explain the warmth. 

Through some impressive feat, Jèr manages to open his eyes enough to see who it is although a part in his brain has already to remind of what happened yesterday.

Still, being in bed beside Phil who is still sleeping, lashes set against his cheeks and mouth open a little, is enough to make Jèr and his heart sigh.

The ache inside him hasn’t gone away, it’s just dulled down for the moment, like it was when Jèr wrapped his arms around Alex after the game. Alex had disappeared soon after that, and Jèr thought that being with Phil was more important, Phil who couldn’t leave his room because of his knee and the painkillers. 

Jèr would be happy to stay here and stare at Phil for the rest of today, it’s not like he would get bored of it, but Phil opens his eyes soon enough and doesn’t seem that surprised at all that Jèr's here.

“Morning,” Jèr says lightly.

“Good morning’,” Phil says, moving one of his arms so it comes out on the top of the sheet.

“You feeling better this morning?” Jèr asks, hopeful.

“Yeah,” Phil says and doesn’t elaborate further. 

“That’s good,” Jèr says. “So, can I kiss you again or was that just a last night deal?” The memories keep on building up, ones of kissing Phil’s shoulder, his neck, than his mouth a little, of having the taste of Phil on his tongue. 

“If you want,” Phil says, too innocent to be coy.

“Trust me, I want to, but let me go brush first,” Jèr says. He wants this to be as perfect as it can be.

Phil says, “That’s cheating, but okay then.” 

“Not cheating and you’re not going to complain anyway,” Jèr says.

Phil is smiling, his eyes the brightest thing in the room by a mile, and Jèr has to lean over and kiss the corner of his mouth before he pulls himself up out of his bed.

He’s just in a pair of sweatpants, no shirt, so he makes an attempt to scratch at that one itchy spot on his shoulder as he’s about to walk around the corner. All of a sudden, Phil lets out this tiny noise that Jèr has never heard come out of him before. He whips back around and finds Phil sitting up, the colour has having all drained from his face.

“Is everything okay? Do you need your painkillers or something, a glass of water?” Jèr asks, running through everything he can think of.

Phil shakes his head painfully so. “Jèr can you--can you just turn around again, please?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Jèr says, confused as to why but he’d do anything Phil asked him in that tone of voice.

Phil doesn’t say anything once Jèr does. He mumbles something Jèr can’t hear. 

“What is it?” Jèr asks, still facing away. “Phil?”

Jèr turns back around again and somehow Phil seems to have lost even more colour from his face, he’s pure white like he’s on the verge of death.

“Phil?” It comes out as quieter this time. 

Phil’s not looking at him. “I’m sorry,” he gets out.

Jèr frowns. “It’s okay--it wasn’t your fault you got injured,” Jèr says, not sure what else Phil could be talking about.

Phil’s shaking his head again. His hands are fidgeting with the sheets. “I’m so sorry, Jèr ,” he whispers into them. 

Jèr moves towards the bed, sits on the edge of it so he’s now within arms’ reach of Phil. “What are you sorry for?” 

Phil still isn’t looking at him. His shoulders are starting to tremble, either from the tension or something else Jèr doesn’t want to think about it.. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, fuck, Jèr I’m so sorry.” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jèr says, feeling the twist in his gut start to tighten from the worry “Whatever it is, it will be okay. I promise.” 

“It’s not, I’m sorry, it’s not okay, you’re not okay, I’m so sorry, Jèr.”

Phil keeps on saying that, and is nearing closer to hysterical every single time, and Jèr doesn’t know what to say, what to do. He touches the top of Phil’s arm to try and steady him but Phil jerks and twists away from Jèr like Jèr burned him.

That’s when Jèr sees it now that Phil’s shoulders are more facing him. Thee black mark on the right of Phil’s spine stands out against the white of his skin.

There was not there yesterday or the day before. Jèr can’t ever remember seeing it.

“Phil, what is that on your back?” Jèr reaches out to touch it but brings his hand back before his does. 

Phil doesn’t look at Jèr when he answers him. He leaves Jèr to hear the pain in his voice instead. 

“It’s a curse,” Phil says, hitting on the final word. Needed to take another a moment before continuing. “It’s a curse and now it’s on you too. I’m the one who gave it to you.” 

 

_**p.m 04/2018** _

They never asked Phil how he got the curse.

Jèr asked if Phil had any ideas of how to break and if Phil had tried to. The answer to those two were both no. Phil ended up saying yes to the latter.

Alex asked how long has the curse has been around and if Phil had ever tried to ever get help or talk to someone about it. Phil could give a solid answer to the first easy enough, with the second, he gave an answer to that and that’s what matters.

Phil needs to stop pretending, he knows that even if they had asked him, he wouldn’t have been able bring himself to be able to say it.

To admit that sometime in between the draft happening and Phil signing for Philadelphia, something or someone overheard him wishing that to be apart of a team, and not be left behind. That Phil went to sleep wishing for that and woke up in the morning with the mark on his shoulder, a scorching of a brand.

Phil would take it all back if he could now. Or actually do something about it, do some research instead of ignoring it, not giving it a second glance when he managed to catch a glimpse of it, and blindly hoping it would disappear or it wouldn’t affect Phil that much or effect him in ways he could deal with.

When Phil kissed Jèr and Jèr ended up with Phil’s curse too, Phil tried every single avenue he could think of, read every little thing he could find on wish curses online but he couldn’t find anything about breaking them and couldn’t find anything about returning the curse to the original person either.

Him and Jèr both kept on trying to find something to help, they spent so much time doing that instead of studying. Phil tried to think positively about it though that only came in the sense of he wasn’t going to let this last forever, that Jèr would be free of it one day. 

And then Jèr kissed Alex after Phil had sent Alex to him and Alex now has one section of the curse stamped onto his spine too. 

It made all of their marks visible to everyone even Phil’s which it hadn’t been before, and the injuries didn’t pile up as much. Jèr said that he thought the mark was getting lighter too and that Phil’s was too. Phil trusted Jèr's judgement on that.

Alex has one, Jèr has two and Phil has three, and the curse is the weakest it’s ever been, and there’s an idea that makes itself known in Phil’s mind. Simply, if Phil kissed Alex, if it worked the same way as with Jèr so Alex would take one of Phil’s sections, then they’ll have two each and the curse may be spread thin enough and weakened enough that it could break.

That’s the best idea Phil has to break it, and Alex would be willing to do it and Jèr wouldn’t stand in the way of it, would probably encourage it even.

But the problem isn’t them, it’s Phil because Phil’s a coward down to his bones and he can't take the risk of doing it in case all Phil kissing Alex does is pass what's left of Phil's mark onto him, leaving his skin bare and free while Alex and Jèr are forced to carry it for him.

Phil hasn’t kissed since Jèr since that night in Red Deer when it was only worth it for the few seconds their lips were touching.

Phil hasn’t ever kissed Alex, has simply thought about it too much whenever Alex would blow and pop his bubblegum and laugh afterwards. 

He can’t even imagine touching them now despite how much he finds himself yearning for it at times.

This whole thing would a different story if either of them were the ones who were carrying the majority of the curse. At least this way Phil is the one suffering who’s most.

Phil's the one who's injured again, who's going to miss the end of the season. Alex isn't playing but that because he's getting healthy scratched, it’s not that he's injured, he'd have let Phil know if he was. (Phil doesn’t let himself think about whether that’s part of the curse too, you don’t get injured, you just don’t play. That’s not a road he needs to go down. He goes down enough already.)

Then Jèr's playing well and hasn't had any trouble since he came back from his concussion, and Phil hasn’t figured out how to stop missing them, but he thinks he misses watching them with each other even more. Seeing them laughing and being beautiful together always made Phil’s days better. If only Phil had the same effect in the long run.

So Phil's going to shoulder the curse and let it take whatever it fancies, whether it's his groin or his knee or his ankle, until he can't do anymore. That could be how you'd get it to disappear, get rid of the source of the curse.

Better to start pushing them away now then wait for whenever Phil takes the curse down with him.

 

_**a.f. 04/2018** _

Alex wakes up from a nap to see three missed calls from Jèr on his phone. It’s not like he necessarily needs the naps because it’s not like he’s been playing and he still might not be when playoffs start, but better to stick to the habit of having them. 

He calls Jèr back straight away. “Hey,” Alex says into the microphone, still lying on his side, the phone balancing on his ear. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” Jèr says, short and furious. “No, it’s not not.” 

Jèr makes this frustrated noise, the type that used to precede him cleaning someone out on the ice. “Phil’s injured--again.” 

“Oh,” Alex says. Alex’s mark burns at the exact point his heart freezes.

“It’s not fair, Alex, none of it is,” Jèr says, and Alex doesn’t need Jèr to tell him, Alex more than understands but Jèr needs to get these sort of words and feelings out of his system and Alex understands that too. Alex mostly wishes he could actually be there for him in person, the same way wishes he could be there for Phil in any way. 

Wishes he could have seen them in person at any point during the season or that he got to hear Phil’s voice outside of his dreams the past few months.

Jèr carries on, the words hitting off each other, harsh. “He wasn’t injured before all of this, before this curse thing started, and it’s not his fault at all that it happened, it just did, but now he’s not letting me help him and he’s not answering my calls when I just want him to be okay. I just want him to be okay and to stop beating himself over this, it’s not worth it.”

Alex lets it sit there. Waits to see if Jèr has more to say. He normally does. Jèr cares with everything he has, he always has more to give.

“I want him to be okay too,” Alex says.

Jèr lets out this long breath before carrying on, sounding downtrodden, “Passing the curse onto me was an accident. I’d have forgiven him if there was something to forgive him for, why doesn’t he get that?

“Because he’s Phil,” Alex says, the simple truth. 

“Yeah,” Jèr says. “Sometimes I wish he wasn’t so Phil so we could actually be there for him and not have to do this.”

“Sometimes, yeah,” Alex says. While they’re here talking about this sort of thing, Alex might as well remind Jèr. “You giving it to me was an accident too, you know. You couldn’t have known that you could pass it on too.”

Jèr doesn’t give him a reply which Alex is okay with, Jèr's going to accept it one day and Alex will keep on telling him until he does. 

The same idea applies to Phil although making contact again is the tricky part there.

Even after everything, Alex has never felt any sort of negativity towards them. Alex still feels so much for them both, and it’s still growing. He knows the word for it now and no curse was ever going to keep it shackled or make Alex hide it away. 

Alex has tried to explain it to Jèr before, that injuries could happen at anytime and that just because you get an injury doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have got if if you didn’t have the curse but Jèr wasn’t taking it. 

“Hey, Alex.” Jèr's voice brings Alex back into the present. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m going to see Phil,” Jèr states. 

“During your playoff series, yeah,” Alex says.

“Yes but I’m also going to see him tonight,” Jèr says.

Alex feels like he should be surprised that Jèr booked flights while on a phone-call with him not but he’s not because it’s Jèr and flying out to comfort your curse mate is a Jèr thing.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Alex says, honest. 

“Thank you for the support, mon chum,” Jèr says, affectionate enough for Alex’s blush to start. 

Him and Jèr are in this weird area where they could be dating, probably are dating but they’re not. They’ve never talked about it explicitly, there’s always plenty of other things for them to talk about instead. Deciding if they should be boyfriends or if they should wait for Phil isn’t something that needs to be talked about because they’re both already know how the other feels about it. 

“When is your flight leaving?” Alex asks, reaching over to pick up his tablet off his bedside table.

“In a few hours or so ,” Jèr says. 

“Okay, and you’re flying to Philly right?” Alex is already typing with his free hand.

“Yeah,” Jèr answers. 

“Okay, I’ll meet you there, then,” Alex says, starting to scroll through to find one he can actually get.

“Yes, as long as they’re renting the car and I get to drive,” Jèr says.

Alex lets out a laugh that comes out as more of a breath. “Those both can definitely be arranged.” 

Alex was never going to take any convincing to do that. He loves the both of them and they deserve to be healthy. They all deserve to be healthy and happy. 

 

**_j.l. 04/2018_ **

There’s half an hour between Jèr's flight landing and Alex’s. Jèr tries to waste time by fucking about his phone but he just ends up switching between all of his apps, nothing able to hold his attention and not having the ability to reply to messages at the moment. his snapback is tugged down and covering his face.

Alex messages him where he arrives. The wait to see him makes Jèr feel all nervous all of a sudden, like he’s afraid him and Alex will no longer get along in person.

Those fears are put to rest as soon as he sees Alex in his long sleeved grey hoodie, hair hidden underneath said hood coming through the gate and smile as soon as he spots Jèr. His smile in person is as breathtaking as ever, and Jèr feels the tension slip away in favour of pulling Alex into a tight hug.

“Hi,” Jèr says, the joy flowing all around, all under his skin.

“Hi,” Alex says into Jèr's neck, pressing every inch of his smile into Jèr's skin.

“I missed you,” Jèr says, happy to be able to say it in the past tense for once. 

Alex pulls back, directs the full force of his smile at Jèr and gives him a tight squeeze around his back. “I missed you too,” he says.

They don’t hold hands until they get into the car. Jèr's resting his hand on the gearstick, watching the road and making sure the sat nav is taking them in the right direction when he feels fingers lined up with his before they get laced together. 

Jèr smiles at the rear view mirror and sees his own smile grow more at seeing Alex’s face.

It’s something for Jèr to savour, Alex right here next to him a few seat away, messing with his chair until it’s more reclined and fiddling with the music they’re playing over the stereo, letting a song play for maybe a minute before changing. That would have annoyed Jèr before this year. Now though, Jèr would take this everyday for the rest of his life if he could.

The closer they get to Allentown, the tighter Alex holds his hand. He’ll let go of it to use his phone but then a few full songs later he’ll have moved it back over Jèr's again

“We’re doing the right thing,” Jèr says eventually. 

“I know,” Alex says. There’s a long gap between that and what Alex says next. “It’s the best thing for Phil, but that doesn’t mean he’ll want it.”

“He deserves it, we just have to make him believe it and see it,” Jèr explains. 

Jèr can feel Alex’s eyes on the side of his head. “Phil really does deserve you, you know,” Alex says.

A wave of emotion surges up from Jèr's gut all the way up his torso and out of his mouth. “He deserves you more,” Jèr says back, so close to saying what he should have said already. Alex must knew how Jèr feels about him. There’s just something fragile about it, something about the knowledge that their relationship isn’t complete, something--someone is missing, that leaves Jèr dancing around saying it to Alex. 

They all deserve each other. Jèr has always known that. It’s how things were meant to be. They’ve all taken different paths to get here and now Phil just needs some help to get along it.

The streetlights are all flicked on by the time they reach Phil’s apartment. Jèr parks the car on the street and turns the engine off. “Which one is it?” Alex asks. 

Jèr points it out to him, he’s only been here once but Jèr made sure every detail was saved somewhere safe in case he ever needed it. They continue to sit in silence. 

“You ready to go?” Jèr asks

“In a second,” Alex says, staring at Jèr instead, his eyes reflecting the yellow of the streetlight. He reaches over and pulls Jèr's hand gently towards him, he’s looking up at Jèr as he kisses the back of his hand. 

“A good luck kiss,” Alex explains. 

Jèr takes a few moments to process that and let his blush spread across his cheeks before he leans over the console and presses a kiss to Alex’s cheek, keeps his lips there long enough to make Alex open his mouth with a soft sound. 

“There’s a good luck kiss for you too,” Jèr says, mostly a mumble. He really does hope they prove to be that in the end.

Logically, Jèr knows Phil lives with two roommates and that they’ll be home as well, but he doesn’t actually remember that until Aube-Kubel is the one opening the door. There’s a smidge of orange on the corner of his mouth.

He looks at Jèr understandably confused. He says Jèr's name and then he looks at Alex like he’s trying to figure something out“And you must be Forts right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Alex confirms, his face now joining the confused party. .

Aube-Kubel nods and keeps on nodding as he turns back to Jèr. “Phil didn’t say yous were coming.”

“Yeah, it’s a surprise,” Jèr says at the same time Alex is like, “he probably just forgot.” 

Aube-Kubel seems to be getting more and more confused but his mouth is turning up a little too.

“He’s in bed, I think. Might be sleeping but he’s been doing that all day so,” Aube-Kubel says, stepping aside to let them in.

The last time Jèr was here, the whole place was drowning in silence. There seems to be more life in it now, the tv is playing in the living room and more lights than just the kitchen’s are on. 

Aube-Kubel points them to Phil’s bedroom before he goes back to the living room. 

Alex takes one look at Jèr before he grabs the door handle and twists it. The door opens without a sound and Alex steps inside, Jèr follows after.

Phil is curled up in bed facing the door, fast asleep, the standing light in one of the corners is turned on. 

Even in sleep, Phil’s face is pained, eyebrows knitted together, skin drained of colour. 

There’s a sharp pain in Jèr's chest, right beneath his sternum. There’s a burning pain on his shoulder.

Alex asks, as quiet as he can,“Jèr , is your mark?”

“Yeah,” Jèr whispers. It burns like nothing else.

Out of nowhere, Phil groans and shifts, turns so he’s on his back.

“Phil,” Jèr says, just as quiet as he was talking to Alex.

Jèr thought it might have taken Phil a little while to wake up. Alex must have thought the same because they both jump when Phil shoots up, hands twisted in the sheets. He stares in their directions, eyes frantic, like he’s trying to see a ghost. 

"You’re not here.” Phil says, voice rough and quiet.

“We are,” Alex says, moving round to the end of the bed.

“You’re not,” Phil argues.

“We both are, we came to see you,” Jèr says, staying where he is. 

Phil looks like he still doesn’t believe it. “Why?”

“We wanted to see you. We were worried about you.” Alex takes a seat on the edge of the bed, perches on it.

“No,” Phil says, an attempt at final.

Using French here doesn’t have the privacy it would elsewhere in the states. Jèr can only hope that the walls do their jobs properly. 

“Phil, we care about you," Jèr says. They're talking to him like he's a wounded animal. "We care about you a lot, and we know you're hurt and yet, you’re not talking to either of us. 

Phil shrugs, a movement to try and hide how his shoulders and chest lurch up 

"We just want to be here for you, we’re all in this together, right," Jèr says, trying to put something positive into this voice. 

"You shouldn't be," Phil says, all watery. 

Jèr watches as Alex who has managed to move all the way down the bed, takes Phil's hand in his. Alex is smiling, is looking at Phil like he's the best thing Alex has ever seen and Jèr feels no jealousy, feels nothing apart from his heart beating loudly in his chest.

"Well, we are, and I love you, and I'm sure Jèr does too, so you should let us be there for you now." How Alex managed to say that so easy Jèr will never know. 

Phil's hitching breaths and barely under control sobs are loud in the bedroom but Alex keeps on holding his hand, doesn't move away. "You were always our friend, Phil. We loved you because of that, and then at least for me, I still in fell in love with you because of you. The curse is just a curse, it isn't you." 

Jèr slides onto the bed too. He places his hand on the middle of Phil's back and starts to rub circles into his skin and doesn't stare at Phil's mark, at the three triangles that make up a semi-circle. "Everything Alex saying is right, Phil," he says. "That includes the part about loving you by the way."

Phil's crying now. Jèr's eyes are burning along with his shoulder but he tries to hold himself together at least for now.

"We might never be able to break the curse but as long as we're together, we'll survive," Alex says on a roll. 

"I think," Phil tries to say before it gets lost under more tears. Jèr starts to draw shapes other than circles into his skin. "I think I know a way."

"To break it?" Alex asks, edged with desperate excitement. 

Phil nods his head again and Jèr's heart may have just exploded. 

"What is it?" Jèr asks, needing to know. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

Phil drops his head. "Because it involves kissing Alex." 

Alex gets it before Jèr does and lets out this long sigh as a way of acknowledgement. "I'm going to take one of your curse sections as well."

"Yeah," Phil says. "Before--I was too scared. I didn't want you to take all of it." 

Jèr's glad his heart exploded earlier because right now it would be getting pummeled and crushed into tiny little pieces. 

"I would take all of it for you," Alex confesses, and Jèr could say the thing about the both of them. "I'm ready when you are. 

Phil takes more breaths to calm himself down. Then he reaches back with his free hand, and Jèr takes it, holds it so there's no chance of Phil slipping out.

Phil tilts his head and leans forward as Alex tilts his head in the other way, eyes closed shut before they even meet. 

It’s such a gentle kiss, Alex's fingers are spread across Phil's jaw and cheek like Phil is fragile, and Phil's back is now relaxed under Jèr's hand. Phil's mark is moving too, fading in and out, its edges trembling, until finally it disappears altogether, leaving no trace that it was ever there at all. 

"It worked," Jèr says when Phil and Alex break apart, Phil leaning his head onto Alex's shoulder. Jèr traces up Phil's spine and runs his fingers over the short hairs on Phil's nape. All of the tension seems to have seeped out of him. 

“We’re staying the night,” Jèr mentions. “Our flights leave in the morning. Is that okay?"

Phil nods, sniffles too, and Alex gives him another kiss on his hairline that makes his breath hitch. 

Phil’s unmade bed is big enough to hold the three of them comfortably in theory. 

In practice, once they're all dressed and ready for bed, Alex in shorts and too big shirt and Jèr in a pair of Phil's sweats because he might have forgotten to pack clothes with him at all, they end up on piled on top of one each other, limbs tangled in all sort of ways.

Phil fall asleep quickly and quietly which makes sense, he has Jèr wrapped around his back and Alex with his face tucked into Phil's chest. 

Alex falls asleep next, the hand that was playing with Jèr's shirt slows down until its just loosely holding the folds of the material in its grasp.

Jèr falls asleep eventually. He can't remember if he dreams then, he knows he dreams before his eyes shut and when he opens them the next day. 

 

_**p.m. 05/2018**_

The Marlies sweep the Phantoms in the Eastern Conference finals.

It wasn’t Phil’s fault and it wasn’t the fault of the curse. They were just the better team. 

The curse is weaker now. It doesn’t have as much of a hold over Phil as it once did. 

They’ve been planning to go on a vacation or two during the summer. By they, Phil means that Jèr has been using his free time from being back in Val-d’or to spam them with links about places and accommodation and all of the things they could do at this places, on the beaches and in the hotel rooms. 

Every day Phil makes sure to look at it in the mirror and see how he’s slowly starting to fade away, how it’s turning grey and there are thin lines all throughout it. He remembers Jèr tracing across it the first time they woke up together, the relief Phil felt when it didn't burn enough to hurt. 

Phil lost years to it, lost games to it, lost time to it that he’ll never get back. There are things he’ll need to learn how to forgive himself for eventually, about the way he saw things and saw himself but Phil can do that now. As long as he keeps on trying his best and as long as he’s not alone, Phil can reach a time where everything becomes clear again.

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers: phil is cursed which is represented by a mark. the curse and the mark are passed first onto jer and then alex, phil blames himself and feels intense, overwhelming guilt about which leads him to thinking un-nice things about how they would be better off he wasn't here and how he doesn't deserve them.
> 
> title is borrowed from death dream by frightened rabbit which deserves a suicide cw as well


End file.
